Ferelden's Rose
by rchlsw
Summary: The early years of Anora and Alistair's marriage. Features Surana. One-shot


"I won't be your puppet…I want….." He looked around the room and she knew not what he sought. "I want to be a good King. I want to learn."

"I will teach you." She glanced up at him; he stood before her pale and almost shaking. "Allow me to teach you, husband." If only Cailan had been eager for her instruction, she thought as the newly crowned King nodded his assent.

"You would know better than me. You've been at this whole royalty thing your entire life."

She thinks first of her father, who had told her from the crib that she was meant to be Queen of Ferelden and then of her Cailan, who had been more than willing to acquiesce the throne to her better judgment, caring only when glory on the battlefield was at stake. Her new King would not grant her the same autonomy.

"There's one more thing…" His facial expression looked hesitant, perhaps even sorry but his voice was even and his tone final, "You cannot ask me to give her up."

The words struck her, even though she did not crave her husband's love. Anora knew the her that the King spoke of. The elf. The mage. The Grey Warden. Her father's killer. Bile rose to the back of her throat and she thought she would vomit. "Is that so?" She kept her expression even. "I did not expect her to submit to the indignities of a concubine." She knew little of the Warden but the impression she had gotten was much more than that of a mistress, even a mistress to the King.

"This is no love match, as you well know."

She was surprised by how much he sounded like Cailan in that moment; when he had been resolute upon an issue and she would have no other recourse than to allow him his way. "I will not give her up, Anora."

Anora smiled to herself. There had been another husband, another political arrangement. Cailan had felt the same way, once. He had told her that theirs was no love match. There had been indiscretions in the early years of their marriage. It was to be expected. One does not marry a King because he will be faithful to her. One does not marry a King for love. She wanted only one thing, to be Queen of Ferelden. If this was the way the Maker saw fit to give it to her, then so be it, she was pleased to marry the bastard King.

Perhaps pleased was the wrong sentiment. The very wrong one. She had not thought is possible but she was even less impressed by Alistair than she had been by Cailan. It had taken her first husband years to grow into a King worthy of the crown of Ferelden . The man who stood before seemed an inferior copy, his hair too tinged with red, his features familiar, but out of place. He seemed scared. Cailan was never scared, even when he should have been. Cailan was nothing if not confident and strong.

The man in front of her was no Cailan. Oh, Cailan... her handsome, kind, foolish, naïve Cailan. She had not loved him and she had not expected him to love her. But he did love her, eventually, as she did he. Her throat caught and she swallowed. She did not have the luxury of lingering in her memories of him. There were more important things than her love for her dead husband. Such as Ferelden. Nothing was more important to her than Ferelden. "We have yet to be married a day, Alistair. Perhaps we could leave this conversation for another time?"

"If we are to rule together then there must be no secrets between us."

Later that night, their wedding night, the King came to her bedchamber and did his duty. He was done quickly, he did not fuss. She supposed it was better this way. Even if he had been more attentive to her, even if he had been tender, she would have been too reminded of a similar set of hands on different king. He left directly afterward. Cailan would have never done so. Had never done so. The new King closed the door to her bedchamber without a word. He didn't have to say that he was going to the Grey Warden, Anora already knew. It was to be as he wished. There would be no secrets between them.

**

She was unsurprised by how easily the people accepted their new sovereign. They were more than happy to have a young, handsome king to cheer for once again, reigning with Ferelden's Rose, as it should be. As though Cailan had never existed. As though Cailan were the bastard. She looked toward her husband of a year, who was trying to hide his nervousness. "Follow my lead." She whispered to him, "This is the easy part." She stepped forth onto the balcony of the castle to greet her people. He followed her. He was often so content to follow. She liked that about him.

She waved to her people, their people, and for a moment felt something akin to hope. He waved to them as well. His eyes searched the crowd and she followed them. His seemed to relax and she knew that he had found her. She stood alone, the little elf who held her King's heart, the woman that her husband refused to keep secret, as a husband should. Anora hoped that no one else had noticed. It was one thing for her to accept his wishes, to allow him to keep the mage and quite another for him to turn her into a fool.

They were in close contact, her husband and his elf. She was the leader of the Grey Wardens and the Wardens were the King's favorite cause. He spent many hours in closed conference with her, pouring over details, making plans for rebuilding. It was natural, the King had been a Warden once himself.

He still came to Anora at night, there was that at least. He came to her first, to his wife. He still did not speak, did not touch her unnecessarily. She was not above taking small victories, though. Let the Warden have her leftovers, let her know that Anora had him first.

**

That night, as she did every night, she asked the Maker to give her an heir. She feared the worst. Five years with Cailan and she had not carried a pregnancy to term and had yet to even fall pregnant after three years with the King.

She'd heard the whispers amongst the court, the sounds of their hissing had beat in her ears many evenings. The poor barren Queen, unable to produce an heir with not one but two kings of Ferelden. She feared other whispers more. Her husband did a poor job of hiding his regard for the Warden and soon the court would begin to whisper other, more vicious things. Her face burned and the tears she held back fell. How could she, a Queen of Ferelden, tolerate such humiliation?

The tears felt foreign to her. She had not shed them since her father's death. Queens do not cry. Cailan used to tell her that, when he would comfort her in her bedchamber and she was just another woman, anyone but a queen. He had been so sweet then. She had always thought him the foolish one. He would laugh if he could see her now. He would tell her that she'd been shortsighted. She had taken advantage of his affection, once it had been earned. He would say that she assumed that it would be easy, as it had then, with him. That he had been a good man. She smiled. He had been. He loved her and understood her and had made her feel like something precious. He'd had his faults, of course. Cailan had been too willing to romanticize his duty, too willing to believe in stories and legends. It had killed him just as well as the ogre had.

Her new husband was not so foolhardy. He was a fair King, he took a serious mind to governance. He listened, he respected his crown, he studied hard. She could not ask for a better monarch. It was as if it always meant to be them, King Alistair and Queen Anora. King Cailan a vague memory or worse yet, remembered in stories as the King Fool who was betrayed by Teryn Loghain Mac Tir.

It was true that Alistair was the better King. Cailan had been the better husband. And there was no woman that could be a better Queen than herself. No one loved Ferelden more than she, certainly not her husband. He who sacrificed nothing for his throne. She had given first her love, then her father for her own.

He was the King, however. Kings did as they desired.

These are not thoughts for tonight. She wiped her face and composed herself. She was a Queen, by the Maker. She would act like one.

**

Her husband shared her elation when she told him that he was to become a father. It was the first time they had shared true happiness.

She would likely never fall in love with him, as she had her first husband. Now she understood. She would accept the companionship, the friendship of her current King. Once she had a child in her arms, it would be enough. She could be happy.

Anora held the newborn and thanked the Maker for his blessing, for making her a true Queen. Ferelden had an heir. A perfect, beautiful heir. She was weary, the birth had not been an easy one. She was certain, however, that she would have rather died than failed to deliver a healthy babe. She kissed her son's forehead. Her son, the crown Prince of Ferelden. She smiled at her husband, who stared at the tiny infant.

"Hello, there." He reached a finger out to the boy and tickled his chest through his swaddling. "Will it be as we discussed? We shall call him Duncan?"

"We shall."

"Hello, there, Prince Duncan of Ferelden." He looked at his wife and she placed the child in his arms. "I'm your father. Try to not be too disappointed."

The baby stared, then his father kissed him. "See! He is his father's son, that one! Did you see the timing of that look?" He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Anora's cheek. It was the first time he had ever done so. "Thank you, my Queen. Thank you for this."

She wanted to be pleased, to feel a sense of triumph, in that precious time with her new family. It was not to be. After an hour or so, her husband gave his son a final kiss and placed him in his mother's arms. "I shall leave you to rest, wife."

She held her son and tasted bitterness beyond that which she had known. The King could never hide his emotions very well. He left for the Warden to share his joy.

They would meet in the common taverns he favored, amongst his people. They would revel and celebrate the birth of the prince. He would not think his feelings for the mage obvious, he never did. Everyone would notice.

He would not even give her the grace of a day before he'd show the people once again how little he thought of their Queen.

**

"Do you see how I am laughed at? It is the talk of the court, on the streets amongst the commoners! Do you not hear them?"

Bann Teagan bowed his head, "Yes, my Queen. I have heard the talk.

"You must speak with the King. He respects you. He will listen."

"It is not my place, your Majesty."

"He would make me a fool! You say that you have heard the rumors but perhaps you were not listening closely enough. They say that the reason my husband takes our child to Weisshaupt, to the Warden is because he prefers her not only in his bed, but as a mother to his son! They say that I am nothing next to her! Would that she had married him; would that she be our Queen! I have heard it and I will not tolerate it!"

"Your Majesty, he takes Prince Duncan to Weisshaupt for only a fortnight. The boy has seen nearly five seasons, Queen. His majesty wanted him to see the place after hearing so many stories."

"Does the King not think of his Queen? Of what his people will say when he takes our child to the Warden? Does he think of nothing but himself?"

Bann Teagan had no answer.

"This foolishness will continue no further. It was very stupid of me to have ever agreed to it." She slammed a hand down upon the table. "You will speak with him at once, you will go to Weisshaupt. You will tell him that he if he cannot manage his affairs in a discreet manner, then I have no choice but to handle them for him. I will not stand by and let him turn me and all I have worked for into a mockery."

"I will...try. I will tell him."

"See that you do." She walked closer to him and took his hand, "I know you call him friend and that what I ask is not easy. But please, try to understand me. I am Queen of this realm, Bann Teagan, and I have my pride."

He acknowledged her request with a nod and left.

Anora sat down and allowed herself to seethe. How dare her husband bring her son to the Warden? Under such flimsy pretense! And for what? To show their son the woman he would ruin his legacy for? She had endured much for the King's sake, for the sake of Ferelden but she would not bear this.

It was true that the King had not come to her since the birth of their son. There was an heir, he saw no reason. Truly, she would not mind but for the whispers of the people. She had known only the admiration and respect of her Kingdom until her remarriage. What was she to them now? Certainly not Ferelden's Rose. Now she was the cast off Queen, an unworthy mother to the Prince.

Anora was now willing to admit what she had been so adamant in denying years earlier. She would gladly relinquish her crown if it meant that Cailan would come back to her. Cailan, who she had loved and who had loved her. Cailan, who would never share their child with another. Cailan, who who had known a thing or two about discretion and tact!

It could not be, though. Cailan was with the Maker and there was nothing she could do to remedy that.

She had never hated anyone more than she hated her husband in that moment. Damn Alistair, who would have their son grow up to see her tossed aside, to see her ignored. Damn her husband, the King, who so obviously longed for the arms of another, an inferior creature, an elf of all things!

An elf that would destroy all that they have built, just like the elf that nearly undid his father. Would the Theirin Kings never learn?

**

Anora did not know what Bann Teagan had said to cause her husband's swift return but she was glad for it. Alistair came home focused and did little else than attend to his Kingdom. He had shown considerable improvement in these past few months and for the first time she felt confidence in his abilities as a sovereign.

He had not seen the Warden in these months, Anora knew. He had come back different. There was a hardness to him now, one that she recognized. It was the look of a King that had nothing left but his crown. It was better this way. Let him have room for no one in his heart, no one save Ferelden.

Now he would live as she had for these past nine years.

There were times when she caught herself feeling sorry towards him and she discovered that all of the softness had not gone from her. He would look so sad, sometimes, in the evenings, as they sat in the study and she would pity him. Anora wanted to tell him that she had not meant that he had to always be away from the Warden, only that he conduct himself sensibly and not at his Queen's expense. That he could go to her now, if he wanted, so then she might have a moment to herself, which had become more infrequent since Alistair's return. That he could take the elf back, if he promised to do so with the utmost discretion.

He had no discretion when it came to his love, Anora knew. So she said nothing.

Soon he would tire of this melancholy and he would learn his lesson on his own. He would find the Warden and resume his attentions. This time, however, he will have learned that all marriages have their secrets, and for good reason. He would know that he could not tarnish a Queen in the eyes of her people, however unwittingly.

The King had insisted on honesty once. Now they would try things her way.

**

Her husband pushed open the door to her bedchamber. He smelled of ale and smoke. He stood far from her bed, slightly swaying. "Why would you not see me?"

"What?"

"Why would you not see me? I went there specifically for you! They said that you would be there...you were there, weren't you?"

"Alistair, what are you talking..."

"Stop! Do not pretend. Do not pretend as you did the last time we saw each other. You were there and you would not see me!"

"I have no idea what you speak of."

He walked toward the bed and sat at the foot, staring at her in the darkness. "It does not matter. I do not care. You are here now, that is what is important. You came back." He laughed and the smell of stale beer filled her nostrils. "I could not believe it when they told me that you were here!" He grabbed her hands and gathered her to him. "Where have you been? What happened? Why won't you see me?"

Anora held still and did not speak. She should have stopped him but her curiosity was overwhelming.

"I have heard that there is a husband now, a daughter. It has only been three years, how could you forget me so easily?" He was emotional now. "I never forgot you! Ever!" He buried his face in her hair "It's okay. I forgive you. I love you."

She began to tell him of his mistake when he interrupted, "I regret nothing in this world more than listening to you when you told me that I should marry Anora. You were wrong, will you admit it now? You said that we could still be together and then you left me. I should have never left your side, I should have stayed with you and rebuilt the Wardens. I should have never been King. Anora barely needs me around, she would have been a fine Queen on her own. Why did you insist? Why did you not think?"

"Alistair, please let me go. There's been a mistake." She pushed him off her.

"Don't push me away. I love you! I love you so much!"

"Alistair. It's me, Anora.

He blinked, confused. "That is not what I've been told...it' s you…it has to be you…"

"I am back early. You are drunk, husband."

He laughed sharply. "Yes, that I am."

"She is not here, you know."

"I know."

"You should leave."

"Now I've gone and done it." He buried his hands in his hair " I'm sorry, Anora. How dreadful of me. I'm sorry if I...upset you."

It was her turn to laugh. "How wonderfully arrogant. You prove yourself a King tonight."

"King?"

"Yes. Now you are a King with a King's ego." She paused for a beat, not sure if she truly wanted to know the answer. "Did she really leave you? The Warden?"

He nodded and swallowed. "Yes."

"When?" She was calm. It was easy to talk like this to him. She wished that it could have always been this way, that he had not forced her hand.

"After I took Prince Duncan to Weisshaupt. Bann Teagan came to see her and then she left. I found her not too long thereafter and she refused to see me. She...continues to refuse to see me. It's been nearly three season since then, it seems so long ago."

He said this last part with such sadness that Anora was compelled to confess. "I sent Teagan to you in Weisshaupt. I was angry with you for bringing Duncan to the Warden. You would never listen, never notice anything when it came to her, you made it so obvious." She felt a twinge of regret. She had not meant to cause him misery, only to teach him a lesson. "There was too much talk, I could not escape it. I sent Teagan to you to tell you that if you could not manage your feelings with more caution that you would force my hand."

He blinked but remained silent.

"I don't know what he said to you but you were home within the week."

His jaw clenched and he fisted his hands at his side. "Bann Tegan said nothing to me."

Realization washed over Anora like a baptisim. "That is because…he spoke to her." She went utterly silent and then breathed low, "I am sorry, Alistair. I did not know that it would happen like this…"

He went stony and took another long pause. "Tis only fair, my Queen. You took my happiness from me, just as I took happiness from you."

"Do not mistake me, husband. You never took happiness from me. You would do worse. You would take my pride, you would diminish me in the eyes of my people." She looked towards him, "And I never took happiness from you, my King. I took love. Who has perpetrated bigger wrongs against the other remains to be argued."

"Indeed." He stared for a moment and stood up. "Thank you for telling me, Anora. Perhaps now I can try to forget, as well."

"I hope that you do not. One should never forget love, even when it is impossible to act on it." She thought of Cailan, she thought of her love, the one she would not forget.

"No, I shall not."

She smiled at her husband.

Her friend.


End file.
